September 19th 1990
by nut-tree
Summary: Hermione recieveing her hogwarts letter on her eleventh birthday - one shot, please R R!
1. Chapter 1

***Author's note***

This one really isn't very fluffy and isn't romancey at all but I kind of wanted to write it and then found out earlier that it's Hermione's birthday today! Happy 32nd Hermione! – hope it's not quite so eventful as your eleventh.

Also, I thought I might write all her birthdays up to the 19th – see the character development and stuff: yay or nay?

Up until the day she turned eleven, Hermione spent most of her time wondering why people didn't like her. She may not be especially pretty or funny or all that interesting , but she knew all that and did her best to make up for it by being perfect in every other way; be confident, smart and friendly – wasn't that what all the books always told her? But then why did she still have to sit on her own at lunch? Why had even her teacher started sighing every time she put up her hand? She did not understand it.

She hoped that it would be better if she got into the grammar school next year.

Her parents had offered her a big party for turning eleven, even with real cake! But she didn't want to have to go through the agony of handing out invites to people who hated her, so she suggested just going to see something at the theatre on Tottenham court road, one of her favourite places in the world with its bright lights and fancy old buildings that she had read about in "a tourists guide to London." It always made her feel like she was floating up out her normal life and self into someone new.

The morning of the 19th dawned crisp and bitingly cold so that she had to pull two jumpers over her pyjamas to keep her warm enough for the short journey down the stairs and into the kitchen , which was always steamy and bright whatever the weather.

Padding down the stone hallway, she felt a sudden thrill of excitement: she was eleven, she was growing up and soon she would get to go to a school where it was normal and good to work all the time, where she might finally make some real friends, where- she stopped in her tracks.

There was someone standing on the other side of the door, watching her through the stained glass. The ripples in it made their own outline quite distorted but whoever it was appeared to be wearing a pointed hat…people did seem to be trick-or-treating awfully early recently – but 9AM in September just seemed ridiculous.

Just as Hermione thought this, the figure rang the doorbell, the sound echoed dismally around the wall and she shivered.

"Hermione, would you get that please?" Her mother's voice came out slightly muffled through the kitchen door, but not so much so that she could pretend that she couldn't hear her. With a feeling of fore boarding that she couldn't quite explain to herself, Hermione slowly turned the handle and the door creaked open.

To her surprise a severe looking middle aged woman stood on the doorstep. Although now devoid of her hat, she was still peculiarly dressed in what Hermione recognised as robes and was staring shrewdly at the small girl, a white envelope in her hand.

"You are Miss Hermione Granger?" Asked the woman, before she could say anything.

"I-er- yes, I am and…" she was going to ask who the Woman was but thought it would be rude, as would asking why she was dressed so strangely. Perhaps, she thought, she was a patient of her parents –who had come straight from a party or something…

"Are you here to see my mum or Dad?"

The woman raised her eyebrows slightly. "Well no doubt I will be talking to them later, Miss Granger, but I am here, first and foremost, to see you. I am Minerva McGonagall and have been sent to discuss your…schooling for next year. Might I come in?"

Hermione opened her mouth to say that she'd better ask her parents first, only to find that Mrs McGonagall had already let herself in, left her pointed hat on the hat stand, and sat down on one of the dining room chairs, gesturing for Hermione to sit on another one close by.

"I understand completely that you probably want to call your parents by now, but I found in these times that it's much better if you allow me to talk to you first so that you may….get over the shock a little."

Hermione sunk into the offered chair, her worst fears realised.

"You're not letting me in, are you? To st Margaret's…" She felt tears prick her eyes but did not care; she had tried so hard in her end of term exams last year. "I KNEW I'D GOT THAT QUESTION ABOUT TITANIUM WRONG" She heard herself wailing before bursting into tears.

After a while she became aware that the woman was trying to talk to her- her voice still a little sharp but much more genial than before.

"Stop it, you silly girl – you misunderstood, dry your eyes now."

Hermione felt a handkerchief being pressed into her hand and took it.

"I'm actually here because you're very talented- quite extraordinary even…. Have you ever noticed ….peculiar things happening to you, when you're upset perhaps?"

Without really meaning to, Hermione thought of the things she had been dismissing and explaining away for years now – that book she had dropped that seemed to take much too long to reach the ground, that time she sneaked into the library when she was not meant to, and when the librarian came back unexpectedly he hadn't seemed to notice her, right in front of him, when that boy had pushed her down the steps leading up to the school and she somehow found herself at the bottom feeling no pain and having no recollection of landing at all.

She gazed at the woman, part of her still sceptical of anything to do with those times, and what this person could have to do with any of it, but another, more instinctive and stronger part already knew that this was going to be true, this was going to be important, this was going to change her life for the better.

"Miss Granger," the woman pursed her lips slightly, as if reluctant to use such blunt words "you are a witch."


	2. 1990 extended ending

Authors note:

I had some people saying the first part didn't end well enough- so this is kind of an added on bit, hope it's better! I just spotted a few mistakes but I'm tired and can't be bothered to rewrite now, maybe later XD

September 19th 1991 should come at some point when I don't have so much homework/coursework!

Hermione's mouth dropped open. She wasn't, she couldn't be… everyone knew they didn't exist….but all the same…

The woman called McGonagall was still looking intently at her through the wire frames of her glasses.

"I'm afraid I don't…I mean, I'm not… what do you ….Witches and wizards and things they're not, well, real – I'm old enough to know that."

McGonagall's lips curved into a fleeting, tight smile.

"On the contrary, miss Granger- you are old enough now to know that _we_ are most certainly real, I can prove it to you if that is what you require to believe, I realise it must be hard for you…"

Hermione blinked, and pushed away the moment of uncertainty that had come from the seriousness in the woman's eyes and the memories of the odd things that had happened to her. This was obviously some kind of stupid joke, or the woman was mad – although she thought she had seldom seen a person so seemingly practical and sure of themselves. Maybe she should just humour her for now…

"er …yes, if you don't mind…" she heard herself squeak nervously, and before she could consider the wiseness of what she had just done McGonagall had reached into her robes, pulled out a thin wooden rod, flicked it and-

"Oh!" Exclaimed Hermione, clapping both hands to her mouth and feeling momentarily dizzy with shock and then: "wow."

Out of the tip of the wand had flown a cat that seemed to be made of silver mist, it leapt and bounded through the thin air for a minute, before tumbling into a fluffy ball that dissolved into vapour, leaving the room seeming somehow much darker than it had before. It was still possible that the spell had been an illusion of some kind, but from what Hermione knew about technology it should never have been able to produce something quite so beautiful …she had never seen anything like it, and the warmth that had spread through the room at the cat's arrival seemed to be warming her heart and filling her with that fizzle inside- the desire to do more and see more and learn more. The woman was looking over the top of her glasses at her, eyebrows raised questionably and Hermione, though still unable to speak, managed a nod and furtive smile.

"Excellent" McGonagall reached into the fold of her robes and brought out a small handbag, which landed on the desk with a surprisingly loud "clunk" before withdrawing from it a letter addressed in Emerald green ink.

Hermione Jean Granger

The dining room, 8 Ferray Lane

Blackheath, London, England

There was a thick, old fashioned seal holding the letter closed, although Hermione couldn't quite make out what was on it. She looked back up at McGonagall, slightly scared of what opening the letter might mean, only to see that she had stood up and was half way to the door.

"I-er-miss, where are you going?" said Hermione, unable to keep the edge of panic out of her voice.

The woman half turned. "You would do better to call me "Professor" from now Miss Granger, and I was wondering whether I might talk to your parents whilst you're taking everything in, I trust it's them I can hear in the kitchen?"

"…Yes, what if-professor- maybe I should come with you they might be a bit…er"

Professor McGonagall gave another of her tight smiles. "Let us say that I am perfectly able to deal with it. Now -" she suddenly seemed a great deal more brisk "You should read your letter, I'll return when things are more settled." And with that she closed the dining room door with a snap, leaving her alone at the large polished table.

Hermione tried to think about what had just happened, but it made her head swim. Only instinct, overwhelming instinct and the tendency to believe what her eyes told her made her think that what the woman had said was true- all her experiences and beliefs about the world said the contrary- but there was time to think about that later.

She tried taking it in little steps: the strange things she could do were real and she wasn't going mad…she could believe that….she was going to get a wand, there was a whole magical community no one knows about, she was a witch- no, too far, her head was hurting again.

From the direction of the kitchen there came hurried, curious voices and then an ominous silence, followed by louder voices.

For the lack of anything else to do, Hermione took a deep breath and opened the envelope.

"Dear Ms. Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…."


End file.
